Stress Relief
by AngelofPrey
Summary: Emma is finding it hard to relax after a hard week, Jefferson offers a solution. A MadSwan smut fic. Spoilers for up to episode 19 of season 1.


Disclaimer: I don't own OUAT, if I did, Alice in Wonderland would have shown up in the plot a long time ago, and would never go away… There'd also be an Alice.

Emma lay on her back, staring a hole in the ceiling above her, and trying to will herself into falling asleep.

To say it wasn't working would have been an understatement.

Emma had brushed her teeth, changed into her pjs, turned off the lights, and snuggled down under the covers promptly at ten, in reward for a hard week's work, but she was still wide awake at three.

Balls…

This past week had been a difficult one; who would have thought that the sudden appearance of a murder victim, and the revelation that they weren't quite so much murdered, as kidnapped, would lead to so much god-damn paperwork? Not to mention the bar brawl on Wednesday evening, or the fact that one of the local old lady's cats had gone missing, and she'd _insisted_ on a full police investigation… Which was in fact, little more than August and Emma riding around town on his motorcycle touting tuna, and calling "Tinkerbell!" at the top of their lungs. Then of course there was the thing with Sydney and Regina, and then arranging Mary Margaret's welcome home party, it had begun to feel like the week would never end.

So when Jefferson suddenly found his way through the front door, well, Emma _assumed_ it was the front door, and into her bedroom, he was almost a welcome guest… almost.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Emma demanded sitting up far too quickly, and pulling her sheets up to her chin in a rather childish rush of demure horror. "How did you get in?"

"The door was open." Jefferson stated simply.

"No, it wasn't." Emma retorted.

Jefferson shrugged, "It was when I finished with it."

Emma groaned and flopped back down on the bed mentally adding "call locksmith" to the list of things she had to do the next day.

"What do you want?" She asked with her eyes still cast up at the ceiling.

"I saw that you were having a bad week, and thought you could use some relaxation." Jefferson replied.

"You _saw_ that I was having a bad week?" Emma looked at him again, quizzically.

Jefferson almost looked embarrassed.

"I have continued to keep watch over you – almost as much as I do my daughter." He added almost as an afterthought.

"Keep up with me? You mean _spy_ on me?"

Jefferson shrugged. "If that's what you want to call it."

"Great… just what I need, an insane stalker. And this was supposed to help me relax, how?"

Jefferson shrugged again.

Emma sighed. "Well, if you're quite finished, I do have to be up early tomorrow, I'm the town sheriff and all that."

"Tomorrow is Saturday." Jefferson pointed out with a half-smile.

Emma rolled her eyes and shifted onto her stomach, suddenly feeling quite tired after all.

"That's beside the point," she said, "Now you let yourself in, please see yourself out…"

Emma didn't hear him move and jumped when she felt his weight on the bed. His knee depressed the mattress just beside her hip, and his hand braced by her head.

"I came here for a reason Emma." Jefferson said softly, his voice betraying none of his intent.

Emma tensed beneath him, she'd been held captive by this man once before, and she was not keen on having it happen again.

"And what reason is that?" Emma asked, trying not to betray the fear she felt.

When he touched her, she was not expecting gentleness, so she flinched, and his hands stilled on her back the pressure strong and reassuring despite how little she trusted the man they belonged to.

"I want to help you relax." He said, his voice reflecting the same reassurance as his hands. He wouldn't harm her; she was safe… for tonight at least.

Out of sheer curiosity Emma relaxed just enough that Jefferson could continue with his plans for the evening and his hands slid up to her shoulders and began to massage them.

Emma bit back a moan as his hands worked wonders on her, first caressing gently before his scar-pocked fingertips dug into her muscles to knead out all the knots and tension in her neck and shoulders that her position as sheriff had put there.

"I know you don't trust me, Emma, and that is something that I deeply regret, but please believe me when I say, I mean you no harm."

He worked his way down both arms before moving onto her hands, and he paid each and every finger individual and equal attention before moving on to the next.

Emma moaned out her response to his words and his fingers, and Jefferson couldn't help but smirk at her unwitting acceptance of his apology.

"That's funny," she said, finally processing his words. "Usually I interpret a gun to my head as a fairly clear message of intending harm."

"That was… a regrettable necessity. I needed you to make my hat." He replied.

"Did it work?" Emma heard herself ask, she didn't need to specify what.

"What do you think? What did your eyes tell you that you don't want to believe?"

Emma didn't reply, so Jefferson began to talk. He spoke to her as he continued the massage, in a low and steady voice, saying how he thought that she was doing a wonderful job as sheriff, how much he had enjoyed watching her these past few weeks (at which point Emma almost kicked him out, but couldn't quite bring herself to do it just yet), and how he thought that if she truly started to believe in herself, that her magic would start to work. Emma wasn't really paying attention to what he was saying anymore, in favor of hoping he hadn't noticed how her skin was almost certainly beginning to flush, or how her breathing had picked up the pace or indeed how her heart was pounding in her chest.

"You ever consider doing this professionally?" Emma said in response to his hands returning to their earlier position on her shoulders.

"No," she could hear the amusement in his voice, "Why? Am I any good?"

Emma didn't care what he said, or what he did, so long as he didn't stop the heavenly things he was doing with his hands. Emma arched into him as he began to work his way down her back, but the only parts of his body touching her were his hands, and it was quite possibly the most erotic thing Emma had ever experienced. His hands, his voice, his scent, his warmth, everything about him was surrounding her like a warm blanket, and Emma couldn't get enough of it. She never wanted this to end.

"Oh yes," she said, slightly breathlessly. "Very good."

Jefferson's hands kneaded into her lower back before skimming over the globes of her bum experimentally, and when Emma didn't shy away, he gave them a quick playful squeeze before moving on down to her legs. Emma couldn't help but moan in response and she could hear the smug grin in his voice as he continued to talk to her about everything that came into his head in that same steady, intoxicating tone. Her thighs flexed against the contradictory feelings of utter relaxation and intense arousal that he was creating.

His hands moved from her thighs to her calves, and when he pressed on a certain pressure point in the arch of her foot she almost came right then, crying out since she no longer cared about what he thought; he was crazy after all.

"Careful Emma, I might start to think you're enjoying this." He said.

"Less talk, more work." She snarled at him.

He paid the same attention to her toes as he had done to her fingers. When he'd finished the massage, Jefferson stopped speaking as well, and Emma was already lamenting the loss of him.

"Are you feeling more relaxed?" He asked after a moment.

The only reply he got was Emma's contented moan.

"Good." He said, "…But I've still got to do your front."

Emma's eyes flew open, and she tensed up all over again, but this time for an entirely different reason.

Turning onto her back, Emma looked up into Jefferson's eyes but all she could see were two dark pupils, blown wide and glinting at her in the dim light of her room. She could also see some rather inviting tenting in the front of his pants that indicated that Jefferson was just as affected by this intimate touching as Emma was. He had undone the first few buttons of his collar at some point, and rid himself of his cravat and scarf so she could just make out the jagged line that ran its way around his neck in an impossible scar that Jefferson usually hid away from the world. Perhaps it was that Emma had already seen it, or that she knew his story, that made it so Jefferson could go without the mask he wore in polite company, but Emma was surprised when she looked at him that she saw no trace of the madness that had simmered just beneath the surface during their last meeting. Tonight it was locked away, and it was just her and this eccentric man.

They started at each other for a moment before Jefferson started all over again, his hands massaging their way from her feet, up her calves and thighs, before skimming across her stomach, then moving to her fingers, and up her arms, where they came to rest gently on her breasts. Their eyes locked the entire time as his hands massaged them, her nipples were little hard pebbles against his palms and Emma arched into him with a moan of pleasure as he pinched them gently and rolled them between his fingers.

"Careful Emma," he warned, "Mary Margaret might hear you."

It had been a long time since a man had paid her this much attention, and Jefferson was already putting all of the ones who had to shame. His hands moved up across her chest and neck and finally settled cupping her cheeks. Her eyes were glued to his so she couldn't miss how his eyes dropped to her lips even in the dim light. Jefferson's head dipped, Emma's eyes closed of their own accord, and soft lips pressed to hers in a kiss that was like everything he had already done tonight, at once gentle and reassuring. It was Emma who deepened the kiss, even from the more disadvantaged position as she was, and her hands rose to bury themselves in his hair, which was slightly stiff from styling product.

Jefferson returned the kiss languidly, moving far too slowly for Emma's half-frenzied state and she looked to even the score by tugging at Jefferson's shirt, and wrapping her legs around his waist to try and get friction where she so desperately needed it.

Jefferson broke the kiss with a hiss and then tutted at her when she came in contact with his erection; not the reaction she was expecting to say the least.

"No Emma, tonight is about you, and you only." He said pulling away.

Emma huffed in frustration. "If that's the case, then I could really use _that_ kind of relaxation too please."

She drove her point home by dropping her hand to his crotch.

Jefferson chuckled and moved himself back over her, but this time pinning her wrists by her head and pinning her legs by sitting on them, so that even as she arched and strained towards him she couldn't reach what she so desperately wanted. Emma growled in frustration but Jefferson calmed her with another kiss and the feeling of his fingers easing the pair of boxers she used as pjs, and her panties down her legs in one smooth motion.

"I won't leave you wanting, I can promise you that." He said close to her ear.

Emma gasped as his hand trailed up the inside of her thighs and she let the breath out as a moan as one finger finally eased inside her, as his thumb started making tight circles against her clit. A second finger was added slowly and Emma arched up off the bed in response, her freed hand going to his shoulder looking for something to ground her against this heady experience.

Jefferson could feel her muscles flutter around his fingers as she grew ever closer, so he dipped his head to her neck and began to nibble his way down to her chest, where he took one nipple into his mouth through her clothes, as he rolled the other one between the fingers of his free hand, the fingers stroking in and out of her curled up and pressed at just the right angle that Emma came undone in a matter of seconds, her muscles rippling and squeezing his fingers hard, her face contorted in a silent scream, as all of her muscles tensed then released and quivered in utter relaxation.

Emma couldn't even bring herself to think after that experience, inside and out her muscles were now made of jelly and she couldn't have been more content. Jefferson eased his fingers out of her with a well-earned, self-satisfied grin.

Emma shuddered as he licked at his fingers experimentally.

"Curious." He commented, before wiping them clean on the bedspread, she didn't realize he had moved until he was at the door.

"Where are you going?" she asked through the haze of pleasure still fogging her mind. His scent still lingered everywhere and she was very nearly drunk on it, on him.

"Home, you're looking much more relaxed, my job here is done." He replied.

Emma made a small sound of protest at the back of her throat. "What about you?" she asked, motioning vaguely in the direction of his crotch.

Jefferson made an amused grunt. "I'll be fine." He said opening the door to leave.

Emma wasn't sure what made her say it, but before she could think about it she heard herself ask. "Stay?"

This was the first time she had truly seen Jefferson look unsure. His eyes were wide, and she saw several emotions flit behind them before his face settled into a blank mask.

"Why?" he asked.

Emma shrugged. "Just until I fall asleep."

Whatever Jefferson thought in the next few moments it ended with him closing the door again and toeing off his shoes to come and lie with her on the bed. Emma turned away from him as he climbed under the covers and he slipped one arm under his head as a pillow, and the other he draped across her waist.

They lay like that for a few moments in utter silence. Eventually, Emma gave into temptation and turned to face him, finding his eyes wide open and staring in that disconcerting way. His arm was still around her waist as she cuddled up to him, tucked her head under his chin and closed her eyes. Emma sighed and drifted off to sleep surrounded by his scent and his warmth, and his arms. In the morning when she woke, she knew he'd be gone, but that was alright. She had the strangest feeling that eventually, he'd be back.

A/N: If you enjoyed it, why not say so? I will accept a simple "Liked it!" and love it as much as a longer review. Alternatively, if you hated it and now think that I am sick and sadistic… well, keep that to yourself unless you can express it through creative criticism. But I would like to hear any suggestions on how to make my writing better. Love and kisses! Thanks for reading!


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